Tarisian Entertainment
by clicketykeys
Summary: Grouchy and bored, spacer Vacy Fiorst finds a way to have a bit of fun on Taris. Rating changed to T for a half-naked man! WOOO!
1. Taris Sucks

**Chapter 1 - Taris Sucks**

_Because it does!_

* * *

><p>Vacy groaned as she sat down next to Corso, leaning heavily back against the tree behind them. The ground beneath her was squishy and wet, and she didn't want to think about what it was doing to her trousers. At least she wasn't the one washing up anymore; since getting the ship back, she had C2 to take care of details like that. It was kind of nice. In fact, once they caught up with Skavak, she just might have to thank him before she perforated him with blaster fire.<p>

"Hey Captain?" said the young man next to her.

She looked over at him. "Yeah, Riggs?" He was just as beat-up as she was. They'd already patched themselves up after the most recent run-in with a swarm of rakghouls, but the kolto-infused bandages didn't do much about the smears of blood and grime.

He sighed, tilting his head back against the trunk of the tree. "Why can't we ever go to a _nice_world?" he asked with a wry grin.

"Ya know, I've actually been wondering the same thing. Coruscant wasn't all that bad… well… parts of it," she amended, looking over at him with a bit of a grin. She chuckled when she saw him scowl back at her. With a groan, she pushed herself up off the ground and wiped her palms on her jacket before offering a hand to Corso.

After a moment's hesitation, he reached up and took her hand, letting Vacy pull him to his feet. She was a good bit smaller than him, but solid; one good yank and he was standing against her and… He took a shaky breath and stepped back. "Lead on, " he said with what he hoped was a casual smile.

It was Vacy's turn to scowl. "We are _done_ for today," she said firmly. "I hate this planet, and I need a drink. No, correction – I need _several_drinks." And with that, she turned on her heel and began the march back to the outpost.

Corso's eyes widened. The captain's leather armor was always… well tailored, but since being soaked through, it clung to her lower curves like a second skin, highlighting every last detail and really not leaving much to the imagination. At least, not to the visual imagination. His mind was starting to fill in details for the rest of the senses, though.

He sped up a bit to jog beside her, picturing Torchy. Surely that would distract him. There was no way Skavak was taking good care of that weapon – he'd probably have to make some repairs – maybe they'd even have the credits to replace some of the modifiable parts. Back on Coruscant at the trade console he'd lingered over some of the cartridges, thinking about what it would be like to have Torchy back. Somehow things just didn't sit right without it. Hewie was mighty useful, and Sugarbomb was… well… the Captain had … had made a good choice, and those thoughts were leading back around in the direction he was trying to avoid, so – Torchy! Right. It would feel so good to have her in his hands… IT. Have IT in his hands. "Ah, blazes," he muttered, scowling.

Vacy glanced over at him. "Problem?"

He shook his head. "I hate this planet, too," he sighed.


	2. Propositions

**Chapter 2 - Propositions**

* * *

><p>They stepped off their rented speederbikes and Vacy headed directly for the cantina in the far corner of the compound. Her steps slowed as she approached, and she put her hands to her temples. "No," she groaned. "Awh, no…"<p>

Corso stepped closer. "Something wrong, Captain?"

"Just…" She gestured to the Olaris Mess Hall. "We're on a gorram Republic _base_. I can't…" She looked at him, pressing her lips tightly together. _Can't say what I was planning in front of _you_, Farm Boy._ After several moments of silence, she sighed, shaking her head. "Can't get a blasted break. Cuck." She scowled, putting her hands on her hips. "Cuck all, I'mma have to be gorram _civilized_ about this."

Vacy stretched her arms high over her head, rolling her neck and arching her back. "Here," she said to Corso, slipping Flashy and Kablam from their holsters. "Hang on to the boys for me, will ya?" She sort of pushed them at him, and without waiting for a response, sashayed into the mess hall.

Finding a suitable candidate wasn't going to be easy. The clientele was a mix of worn-out refugees and stuffy off-duty 'pub troops. The latter was liable to be a bit more promising, Vacy figured. Soldiers, after all, were supposed to be in good physical shape… well… most of them, anyway, she amended with a sigh to herself as she looked around.

But up leaning against the bar… that one might do. Something in the way that he stood, and the way that his hair fell over his forehead, not _quite_ long enough to get in his eyes, shorter on the sides so that it didn't _quite _touch his ears… this was a man who sauntered brazenly along the fine line between propriety and mischief.

She hoped.

And so she sauntered just as brazenly up behind him, sliding an elbow onto the bar and leaning in, echoing his posture with hers. "Hello there, soldier," she purred.

He turned from his companions, and looked her over thoughtfully. She noticed that he took his time with it, too, before nodding to her over another swig of his ale. "Afternoon, ma'am."

Vacy looked at the man just as thoughtfully for a few moments, and then shrugged. "Look, I'll just be up front with you. I can't stand this blasted planet, but I'm stuck here, so I'm lookin' for someone who'll step outside with me for a bit of a tussle so's I can take my anger out on a body who won't mind a bit of pounding."

"A bit of – excuse me – pounding?" the man asked, eyebrows arching sharply.

Vacy felt her cheeks warming. "Not that sort of pounding. You know, a brawl? Fistfight?" She grinned, then, and let her gaze travel over his broad shoulders and lean torso. Yep, she'd chosen well. "Although a woman does appreciate a man who's strong and fierce." She winked. "Good with his hands, and all." Leaning in, she smiled slowly. Invitingly. "I might be up for the other sort – if you can beat me."

The soldier looked over her small frame again, and Vacy could tell he was trying to hold back a smile. Maybe a laugh, too. He nodded over to the table where Corso was sitting. "What about your buddy?"

Sitting back, she shook her head. "Not a chance. He don't hit back." She grinned with a sigh. "Tries to be a gentleman, so he's out of the running. Pity. He's got a dam'd impressive right cross." She pulled a credstik out of one of the many pockets she had in her jacket. Waved it at him. "Five thousand credits says you can't take a girl," she taunted.

And maybe she raised her voice just a wee bit, so that now folks were starting to turn and look.

_Time to make a spectacular exit._ Vacy stood and worked it all the way out of the building, nice and slow so that anyone who wanted could follow her.


	3. Ready to Rumble

**Chapter 3 – Ready to Rumble**

* * *

><p>"Captain, are you sure this is a wise idea?" Corso asked as he caught up with her. Sure, technically, they had the thousand credits. Still… they could find a better use for it than gambling it away. Corso wasn't averse to a game of cards now and again, but he'd seen a couple of his buddies – former buddies, he recalled with a pang – on Viidu's crew get themselves into serious trouble making bets for more than they could reasonably afford.<p>

Rolling her sleeves back a touch and checking her pockets for anything that might cause serious damage, Vacy grinned at him. "Nope," she said brightly. "Don't much care, neither. I need to let off a bit of steam with somethin' that's not actually trying to kill me." She clapped him on the shoulder. "However it goes down, we'll be all right, Riggs. Besides. I thought you had faith in me," she added with a wink.

Corso shrugged. "Guns? You bet. I wouldn't wanna cross you in a firefight," he said seriously. "But I ain't ever seen you fight barehanded, so in all truth, I don't know what to expect."

She considered this thoughtfully for a few moments, and then nodded. "That's fair enough." Grinning again, she rolled her shoulders and tilted her head until her neck popped. "Watch and learn, Farm Boy."

Spotting the man she'd approached in the cantina, Vacy tilted her head at him as he walked toward her. "So do I get to know the name of the guy I'm about to beat senseless?" she asked with a smirk, chin tilted up.

"I'm Garren Dobrandt," he replied. "And you're awful cute, missy. But do you really think this is a good idea?"

Vacy looked over at Corso. "Why do people keep asking me that?" she groused.

Garren shrugged. "Look, I can't just let what you said go. But if you were to back down here in front of everyone, that'd be all right."

"Oh, yeah, like _that's_gonna happen," Vacy returned, putting her fists up in front of her. "Don't hold back, now."

The soldier sighed and raised his own fists. "All right," he said with a bit of a grin. And he reached up and unbuttoned his uniform shirt, slipping out of it and handing it to one of the men standing near him, then pulling his undertunic over his head and passing that over as well. "C'mon, then. Show us what you've got."

Vacy felt her cheeks grow quite warm. "Now – hey, now – that ain't fair," she said, gesturing to his lovely, lovely bare chest, all toned and muscley. "Ain't right of you to go and distract me with your… your… _manly wiles_."

Garren's eyes sparkled and he grinned wolfishly. "I've only got one spare uniform," he explained, raising his fists and dropping into a crouch. "So I've got to keep this one looking decent. Can't have it destroyed."

Vacy gulped.

He edged closer. "Of course, you could always even things out." Another step. "If you wanted," he added, very, _very_obviously looking her over.

"I don't know what you mean," Vacy retorted, lifting her chin. "I am not That Kind of Girl." And she darted in, reaching back, and socked him in the jaw.

* * *

><p>Corso saw Vacy throw the first punch, and his eyes widened and his stomach sank. Because if anyone ever fought "like a girl," it was apparently none other than his captain. He hadn't known how well she'd do, but this level of ineptitude – from her?<p>

He'd been worried when he saw her stance – feet close together, fists too low for any sort of protection. It went beyond amateurish and right into ignorant. And he'd seen the soldier taking note of it as well.

But at least they wouldn't be sticking around very long, he figured. It'd be over right quick at this rate. The soldier didn't even bat an eye when Vacy hit him and ducked back out of reach, and Corso sighed, wondering if she'd be willing to yield or if she'd be so stubborn that she wouldn't give up until she was unconscious.

He just hoped she wouldn't go and ask him how she did.


	4. Fair Is a Subjective Concept

**Chapter 4 – No, Really; "Fair" Is a Subjective Concept**

_For whatever reason, the rest of the fight wanted to be written in present-tense. And I've had so much trouble with this (I HATE COMBAT! ARGH!) that I'm just going with it. Please, please – if you can offer me any pointers on writing combat, I would looove to hear them._

_In particular, I'm concerned that it drags. Also, I couldn't figure out a way to weave in Corso's reaction to what was going on without having it feel like an interruption._

* * *

><p>Garren waves her in, and she comes at him with a couple of chest blows, but he wraps one arm around her offhand, turning her to the side, and gets two good hits to the right cheek. Vacy yelps, turning further, twisting, and scrambles away, rubbing her face. But then she straightens and pulls her fists up again.<p>

He smiles, because maybe she can't fight, but she isn't a wimp. As she approaches for the third time, he steps forward as well and gets her good just to the left of her collarbone, and she's wrapping her arms around his and goes for a knee to the groin, but he twists to the side, shoving her away. She stumbles back, trips, lands on her bottom but manages to spin to a knee and get up, backing away again.

Now Vacy is on the defensive. Garren comes at her, she throws two wild punches that he easily ducks, and when he comes up, he lands another on her cheek that splits it open and sends her reeling back. "Do you yield?"

But she sets her jaw and shakes her head. He smiles, respect mingled with regret. He comes in again, and when she goes for a punch he grabs her arm and spins her in against him, hitting her repeatedly in the side and she's squirming against him, kicking at his shins, but he has her firmly and one connects with a crunch and she yelps, twisting, but he doesn't let go and so they both fall down.

When he lands on her, she lets out something between a gasp and a cry. And Garren pauses, just long enough to look her in the eye. "Do you yield?" he asks again.

But instead of answering she kisses him, twining one leg with his, curling up to meld her body to his, and she can feel the tension resisting, then relenting as he groans against her and … _hey, he's a pretty good kisser_. And she slides her hands up his back, pulling him tighter against her, mouth slanting open, tongue brushing his lips, and then his tongue is stroking hers, and something inside her twists, pulls with desire and she sighs into the kiss.

It's not that long – but, well, maybe a little longer than was _absolutely_ necessary – before Vacy breaks the kiss for a shuddery breath. And she smiles slowly, brows lifting just a touch. And whispers, "Do YOU yield?"

He chuckles softly, the sound low and inviting. "You are something else, Captain." And he presses his mouth to hers, warm and firm, and now she's thinking maybe yielding wouldn't be SUCH a bad idea, and the survivor-voice in the back of her mind that's yelling _**remember the plan, Vee!**_ is getting harder and harder to hear. He breaks the kiss, sliding a leg between hers and whispering, "I really, really want you…" And when he nibbles kisses along the side of her neck it's ticklish and squirmy and oh, she doesn't want him to stop, and his voice is hungry when he whispers, "to yield."

_To – wait – WHAT? He's not beguiled? He is _not_ completely at the mercy of my sultry femininity?_ The blow to her pride wakes Vacy up faster than anything else and she pushes off with an elbow, twisting her legs to continue the roll until she's got the space to lean up and pull her other elbow back and drive it straight into his sternum. This time he _does_ grunt in pain, and she leans close and whispers, "Like hell," before kissing him again and then a right cross to the jaw that leaves him seeing stars.

But he ducks out of the way of the next one and her fist hits the dirt. He pushes, and she's little and goes flying, into a tuck-and-roll, ending up crouched on one knee. Standing, he brushes off, then grins at her. "Were you just playing, that whole time?" he asks with a chuckle. "This is about to get really interesting."

And Vacy can feel that devil rising up inside her, that one that promises a whole lotta trouble brewing, and she grins right back. "You ain't seen nothin', big guy," she purrs, and now when they close her stance is balanced, one foot back, her knees bent in a low crouch, fists high, and when he socks her she doesn't yelp or whimper or do anything much more than grunt, and when she hits him back it's hard enough to split both her knuckles and his lip.

They're both moving faster, now; eyes narrowed in concentration but sparkling and alive. In close, and he's stronger, and it hurts, but she's vicious and stubborn and grits her teeth and slams the back of her head into his chin and they break apart.

Breathing hard, dirty, sweaty, they approach again. This time it's Garren's fist that misses, but only because Vacy ducks low, pivoting to the side and behind him. And then she springs, and she's on his back, legs wrapped around his waist aren't a big deal, but she's got her arms around his head, one tight below his jaw, one pulling it tight and tilted half-across his eyes.

Still able to see out of one eye, Garren stumbles toward a corner of the building and then backs up against it, ramming Vacy into the duracrete. This time she does yell in pain, but she only pulls tighter, tilting her head down and hissing, "Yield!" And the ground is starting to waver, and he knows she's cutting off his circulation, so he steps forward and then backs against the building again.

Bruised, bloody, and now definitely concussed, Vacy can only think _don't let go, don't let go,_ and hope that Garren blacks out before she does. Something jars her again, and she blinks, because the ground is close, but she's still holding on, and in her confusion all she can think to do is holler for Garren to yield again. She can hear her own voice, all scratchy and hoarse, and then she's on the ground, scrambling away, because she's sore and wobbly and she can't seem to shake the buzzing from her head.

And then there's someone beside her, but it's all right, because it's Corso _(of Corso)_ her brain says but she doesn't say that out loud because it's a really stupid joke, but he's smiling wryly and shaking his head so she kind of wonders if she actually did say it or if he just thinks she's as much of a goober as usual. _Focus, girl,_ says the survivor-voice, and Corso gets a wobbly smile. "Did I get him?" Vacy rasps.

"Took him out but good, Captain," comes the voice she lo- _knows_ so well. Corso sighs, one brow arching. "You've got an interesting idea of 'fun,' you know."

The world is clearing up, solidifying, and her smile is a bit less wobbly now. "Yeah, well, glad I'm able to keep you interested," she returns with a wink. Sitting up isn't much fun, and she winces several times. Now that her body's calming down a bit it's reminding her that it doesn't much like getting slammed around that way. "Here, help me up?"

As Corso lets her take his arm and stand carefully, Vacy notices that Garren's friends are doing about the same for him. She straightens, breathes, and lets go of Corso's arm before limp-shuffling over toward the soldiers. Garren looks up, sees her, and for a moment she's nervous. She did just take him down in front of all his buddies, and sometimes that's a good way to make an enemy. But she sticks her hand out anyway. "Thanks. Best time I've had since we landed."

A moment later, though, he grins and takes her hand. "Well that's an awful shame," he replies, and without letting go he steps closer, tilts her chin up with his other hand, and kisses her again, which is nice, except his thumb brushes her cheek and she hisses in pain.

Garren immediately steps back, apology in his eyes, but Vacy shakes her head. "Nah. You're all right." She grins a bit. "Sorry 'bout your pants," she adds, the lie evident by the impish sparkle in her eyes.

He grimaces a bit as he looks down at the dirt and grime that's been ground into his uniform trousers. "Yeah… well… guess I'm down to one pair, least for now," he says wryly.

"You know…" Vacy folds her arms, lifting one shoulder ever-so-casually. "I've got a protocol droid on my ship. Great at taking care of stains… mending. Even patch you up a bit if you like."

Garren reaches up, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. "I think I like that idea quite a bit," he murmurs.

She grins at him, then looks to his companions. "Well all right then. Gentlemen, I think we'll take our leave of you. Get ourselves un-beat-up and … all that." And she's kind of impressed that none of them even raise an eyebrow, given … events. "Do me a favor and buy a drink for my buddy?" She winks at Garren. "You can take it out of my winnings."

They nod, and Vacy and Garren head away from the cantina. "Hey, Riggs," Vacy says as he walks up to them. "We're gonna go have C2 patch us up. I'll meet you back here in a bit?"

He looks at Garren, then back at her. Lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug. "Dunno why you're lookin' at me. You're in charge." Lifting a hand in farewell, he smiles, but it's not a smile, it's just stretching your mouth so your teeth show, and Vacy can see that he already knows what she isn't saying. But he swallows his pain and his pride, and nods. "I'll see you when you get back."

_Best this way. It really is best this way,_ says the survivor-voice. And so Vacy slips an arm around Garren's waist. "You ever been on a YT before?" she asks as they head toward the starport.

But it's awful hard not to think about the sadness in Corso's eyes.

* * *

><p>End! Finally! WOOOO!<p> 


End file.
